


Spiders

by Drag0nst0rm



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Curufin is a good dad, First Age, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Or at least tries to be, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: It was quiet.Too quiet.





	Spiders

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Пауки](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20218486) by [допой уже эту песню (holy_milk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy_milk/pseuds/%D0%B4%D0%BE%D0%BF%D0%BE%D0%B9%20%D1%83%D0%B6%D0%B5%20%D1%8D%D1%82%D1%83%20%D0%BF%D0%B5%D1%81%D0%BD%D1%8E)

> I don't own the Silmarillion.
> 
> For rencat, who wanted “You’re eating what?” with Celebrimbor and Curufin and “Surprise me!”

It was quiet.

Having grown up with six brothers, Curufinwe deeply mistrusted that quiet, even with only one child in the house - or garden, which was where they currently were.

He looked up warily from the notebook where he was sketching out his next project. Tyelpe was sitting by the corner of the garden wall and staring at something intently.

Probably fine then. He looked back to his work.

_Smack._

He looked up in time to see Tyelpe’s chubby toddler palm smack down on the wall again. He held it up to his face before cheerfully smacking that same palm over his mouth.

On second thought - 

“Tyelpe,” he called out, dropping his book and getting off the bench hurriedly. “What are you doing?”

Tyelpe looked up at him and beamed in delight. “Snack,” he said happily, mouth still full.

“No,” he said sharply, crouching at his son’s side in another instant. “Spit it out.” He held out a hand. “Now.”

Tyelpe obediently spit out something with far too many legs and that was now unbearably sticky. Right into the offered palm. 

Curufin dropped it quickly and rubbed his hand on the leg of his pants. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have offered his bare hand for that.

“Snack,” Tyelpe repeated, drooping sadly.

“I’ll get you another one,” he told him, swinging Tyelpe up into his arms as he stood. “Tell me next time, alright? We’ve always got plenty of food in the pantry. There’s no need to eat spiders.” Or whatever that had been. “There’s never a need to eat spiders.”

“Sweets?” Tyelpe suggested as a hopeful alternative.

Curufin looked into his hopeful face and couldn’t resist a small smile of his own. “Just this once,” he agreed. “But don’t tell your mother.”

(Fire spewed forth from Angband, and they ran before it. 

It was a long way to Nargothrond.

A long way - and little food for it.

He kept his son close whenever they won precious time to rest. He didn’t miss the way Celebrimbor clutched his stomach as he slept.

The woods were thick with webs here. 

_Danger_, most of their followers murmured.

Curufin looked at his brother and saw his thoughts reflected back at him.

Danger, yes.

But also meat.

They brought it back already butchered; black and foul but far larger than anything else they’d managed to bring down in these accursed woods.

“What is it?” Celebrimbor asked, eyes still heavy with sleep too soon interrupted. 

“It’s food,” Curufin told him as he passed over his son’s share and his own with it. “That’s all that matters now.”)


End file.
